


Lipstick

by RyunnKazan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle's not sure what to do and just wants her baby to be happy, Crossdressing, F/M, Multi, Rumplestiltskin might look like a hindrance but he's really just a scared parent, Transgender, gay relationships, transgender Gideon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyunnKazan/pseuds/RyunnKazan
Summary: Something's wrong with Gideon.





	1. Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Blame Giles Matthey's cheekbones.

Gideon Matthey Gold was completely normal …but at the same time, he wasn’t.

Nothing was wrong with him per say. To the prying eyes of Storybrooke, Maine, he was like any other teenager.

He was polite enough to all who approached him, but he regularly associated with only two other teenagers: Neal Nolan, who despite having to schedule his dates due to his intense popularity among his peers, was a perfect gentleman, and Robyn Mills-Hood, who used her edgy, sarcastic attitude to cover the scars she had earned in the raging battle between her eccentric mother and distant father.

He went to school at the local high-school with them, made slightly better-than-average grades as he had been reading college-level material since early high school, which made him the candidate for several scholarships as his senior year approached.

He lived with his infamous mother and father in the even more notorious salmon mansion just west of Main street, worked in his father’s shop after school and weekends in the library with his mother.

No, Gideon Matthey Gold was an average young boy in an average town, and despite the occasional sneer at his parentage, no one thought less or more of him.

That is until the faithful September day when the first period bell of the new semester rang and it became abundantly clear to all who witnessed the morning’s even that Gideon Gold was far from normal.

It was five minutes until homeroom. Neal Nolan was at his locker discussing the morning’s mysterious events with Robyn Hood-Mills.

“So he just didn’t show up?” Robyn inquired. “He sent me a text saying to get a ride with my dad.” He closed his locker, looking down at the redhead. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or concerned.” Robyn scoffed and wheeled her wheelchair into the hall. Robyn Hood-Mills had been in a hunting accident that summer courtesy of her father accidently shooting her in one of her legs. The accident had furthered the malice between her parents, and put a damper on Robyn’s senior plans. “He say anything else?” Robyn pressed. “No. Maybe his parents dragged him somewhere? He’s been ditching us a lot lately.” Robyn shrugged. “Maybe now you have an excuse to beg your dad for a car?” 

Neal chuckled, and just as he readied a retaliation, a burst of laughter down the hall.

“What can be so amusing this early in the morning?” Robyn deadpanned.

“Race you there?” Neal smirked.

Robyn wheeled ahead. “Fuck you, Nolan.”

Neal shook his head and followed her into the crowd where their peers were jeering and taking pictures of the object of ridicule.

“Nice eyeshadow fag!” someone yelled.

“Rude much?” Robyn muttered.

Neal and Robyn squeezed through the front of the crowd and stopped.

“Oh my God…” Robyn gawked.

“Gid…?”

Before them stood Gideon Gold, fleshed out in full makeup: sunset orange eyeshadow, full eyelashes, blush on his sharp cheekbones, and dark red lipstick.

“Oh Gid…”


	2. Neal the Nabber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal reminiscences on a childhood occurrence.

5-year-old Neal Nolan never understood why his parents never let him go to Gideon’s house. Gideon was his best friend. His mama and dad knew that but they still never let him go, even on the weekends.

“I wanna see Giddy!” the grade-schooler demanded to his mama, stomping his little foot hard enough to make the jars on the counter shake.

“Neal Robert Nolan you stop that right now!” his mama growled.

Neal stopped at the sound of his Mama’s angry voice. It was the Neal Had Better Listen Right Now or he'd be in big-trouble-mister voice.

Though he remained quiet, he dropped to the bruised hardwood with a huff, crossing his arms in legs and curling into himself with a pout.

“Maybe we should let him go for a few hours.” He heard his papa speak up from across the room. “I have to work until 8, and you have papers to grade.”

“David.” His mama sighed, lowering her tone to prevent Neal from hearing which was hard to do with the boy being right under them. “You know how I feel about the Golds.”

“I know how you feel about Mr. Gold, who, if I’m not mistaken, works until 7 on Saturdays. His wife, however, closes the library at 2 and should be home with Gideon now.”

From his place on the floor, Neal could see his mama’s hip cock.

“Why do you have their schedule’s memorized?”

“Because I don’t think our son should miss out on a golden friendship just because of who that friend’s parents are. Pun intended.”

“But it’s Gold, David! He-”

“Is our landlord but also the father of our son’s best friend.”

His mama was quiet for a moment before saying with a huff, “I’m not rewarding him for this tantrum!”

Neal was becoming sore on the floor from his pretzel-pose. Just as he was about to unravel, his papa knelt to his level.

“Do you promise if we let you go over to Gideon’s that you’ll stop acting up?”

Neal shot up, his leg tingling from being crossed for so long. “Yay!”

His papa smiled and told him to grab his backpack, and a coat, his mama called.

Gideon and his mama were waiting on the porch of their big mansion. It reminded Neal of the house Scooby-Doo and his gang went to at the beginning of every episode, but more…pinker. It was less scary that way he supposed, but he wasn’t afraid anyway.

Gideon was running up the path as soon as Neal jumped out of the truck.

“Neal! Mama maked cupcakes! She said we can iced them once they cool!”

Neal rejoiced with his friend and trudged after him into the athenaeum of his father’s relics and his mother’s books.

After spilling an entire bottle of glitter candies on one cupcake (which Gideon’s mama didn’t get upset about as Neal’s mama would have) she opened the back door and suggested the two sugar-hyped boys play in the garden while she cleaned up.

“We can play superheroes!” Neal suggested.

“I don’t have a cape.” Gideon returned.

Neal looked around the Gold’s pristine kitchen and caught sight of Mrs. Gold’s frilly apron thrown over one of the chairs.

Neal and Gideon smiled mischievously at each other before Gideon quietly pulled the apron from the chair and ran out the back with his friend.

After a few tries, Gideon managed to get the apron tied sloppily around Neal’s neck and the two began their game. The valiant Neal the Nabber shouted playful obscenities at the vile villain Gideon the Grave as he turned up grass in garden.

After about ten minutes, the boys paused their battle of good vs. evil to breath, sweaty and hot on the unusual fall day.

Gideon gasped and wiped the sweat on his forehead, turning to Neal to see if he would go with him to pester his mother for lemonade when something peculiar happened.

A relieving breeze had picked up and began blowing the frilly-green apron around Neal’s shoulders, the late-afternoon song striking his marigold-blond hair just right. He looked…young Gideon couldn’t quite describe how he looked. Just different. Different in a way that made his stomach bubble and hands shake with the urge to just touch him.

Hesitantly, he walked up to his friend, mesmerized by the dancing shadows on his form.

Neal looked up just as Gideon stepped close enough to him that he could smell his sweaty outside smell.

“Gid? What is it?”

Instead of answering, as he should have done to prevent future events from transpiring, he leaned forward and kissed his friend directly on the lips.

Neal jumped at the feel of skin on skin contact.

“Gross! Gideon!” he spat, wiping his mouth furiously.

Gideon shot back, panicking at what he had done.

_Why **had** he done that?_

“I-I…”

Neal glared at his friend. That was so stupid! Why would Gideon be so stupid!

Suddenly, Gideon shot off to the house, calling for his mama. Neal watched him, feeling aggravated and confused. And later that night, guilty for reasons his young mind couldn’t fathom.

-,-

The apron incident hadn’t crossed his mind since the day it happened, but now it was fresh in his mind, dominating his thoughts. Could that lapse of childhood misjudgment somehow be the cause of…whatever this was?

Now, Neal Robert Nolan was watching his best friend sit in the main office, makeup still masked on his sharp features as Principal Mills called for his parents. His eyes were so…dead. As if he were in a trance. Neal wasn’t meaning to ogle at his friend’s current condition, and he was taking no pleasure in seeing him in this state, but for some reason he couldn’t look away.

Gideon had always been a little strange. Quieter than most, more willing to take in the scenery than be a part of it. Neal recalled on a few occasions when they would be out and he’d be watching girls their age as they went about their business, his whiskey eyes memorizing every move, watching as they applied their lip-gloss at the mirrors in the stores or how they gushed over gossip. He would smile sometimes, the look in his eyes changing into one of longing, but not lustful.

Neal cringed at the memories of how he would tease him into a blushing hit afterwards. He hadn’t considered the idea that there was something deeper brewing in his best friend’s psyche, that he would need someone to ask questions and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

The bell to second period rang and Neal flinched. He could already see his parents crossing their arms in disappointment when they got the email that Neal had missed all his classes his first day of senior year. It would be a half-hour of lecturing and a weekend of grounding but he couldn’t find it in him to care. His best friend was sitting in the main office teetering on sanity and he was not leaving until he was safe.

A higher being decided to take pity on him as the tell-all sound of Belle Gold’s heels echoed down the hallway. Neal turned to see the Gold’s stalking to the main office side-by-side, their faces showing that they were in full-parent mode, so intent on their mission that they brushed right past Neal without a glance.

Neal watched in horror as their straight spines softened when they saw their son, hunched over in an uncomfortable, defeated pose, his pulse racing when Belle crouched to his level and gently pried his face from his lap to see his makeup-smeared face. He waited for the scream of horror or for Mrs. Gold to jump back in repulsion, but neither exclamation came. The Golds and the principal were very still, none seeming to breathe, and Neal stilled right along with them. Finally, Mrs. Gold turned to her husband. Neal couldn’t see her face, but he could see Mr. Gold’s. He looked confused, but mostly concerned, like any father who got a phone call from their child’s principal.

To Neal’s relief (and slight disappointment), the principal moved the Gold’s into the adjacent office where they would discuss the previous events in private.

Something was different now. Something in their stable friendship was broken and there was no way to fix it. They couldn’t brush this off and pretend it never happened. They’d have to deal with this change and treat it as the new norm.

But what was this new norm?

What was happening with Gideon?

As the door to the principal’s office closed, Neal caught the slightest reflection from Gideon’s haunted eyes and his breathe caught.

Gideon was dying on the inside.

 


	3. A Fellow Parent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. and Mrs. Gold discuss Gideon's behavior with the principal.

“Now, you know our school respects and encourages our students to express their individuality.” The principal recited to the Golds who were seated protectively on both sides of their son, ready to shield him from whatever the principal was about to say to them.

“However, there are certain restrictions we have for the sake of student safety-”

“In what way did my son cause another student harm?” Mr. Gold snapped at the principal. “You stated on the phone there was no violence on his end so that could only mean—”

Belle reached over and placed a hand over her husband’s, cutting him off. “Reid,” she soothed, “let her finish.”

Reid huffed but sat back, rubbing a thumb over his wife’s, their hands hovering over their son’s clenched ones.

Principal Mills nodded to Mrs. Gold before continuing. “While I can’t force your son to abandon his…behavior, I do have to suggest that, perhaps he…express himself at home instead of in a learning environment.”

Before either of the Golds could respond, Gideon shot up, fists clenched by his sides, eyes glaring down at his shoes. With something equivalent to a snarl, he turned and stormed from the office, slamming the door so hard the pictures and framed certificates shook on the wall.

“Gideon!” Belle cried after him, she and her husband rising from her seat only to be stopped by Principal Mills firm but sympathetic voice.

“Mrs. Gold please stop.” She said. “He won’t go far.”

Belle sighed in defeat, turning back to the principal and her husband.

“I was going to ask him to step out anyway. I need to talk to you privately.”

“What can you say that we don’t already know?” Belle fought, her patience shattered now that her son was. “That our son is different? That there’s an entire school full of kids his age that will do all they can to make him feel like an outcast?”

The principal stared at Belle for a moment before she understood the ultimate reason behind the Gold’s defensive behavior.

“You both knew about this? Knew about the…crossdressing?”

“We knew our son likes to dress like a woman, yes. That he was going to school like this today? No.” Mr. Gold answered, looking unsure of what to say now.

“I watched him pick out his outfit this morning.” Belle muttered, covering her face with her hands. “I thought he was going to be okay today.”

The principal looked back and forth between the parents, her sympathy for their situation nearly over-lapsing her professionalism.

“How long has this been going on?”

“About three months.” Belle answered confidently.

Mr. Gold’s glanced at his wife, a secrets in his gaze that he wasn’t ready to reveal.

Principal Mills nodded, having seen Mr. Gold’s hesitance. “Mr. and Mrs. Gold—”

“Let’s drop the formalities Regina.” Mr. Gold spoke.

The principal’s stiff shoulders relaxed, her professional demeanor dropping into one more casual now that she was with two friends rather than two parents.

“Belle, Reid, I’ve done all I’m legally allowed to do. In fact, I’ve overstepped my boundaries letting this conversation get as far as it has.”

Reid Gold nodded, feeling out for his wife’s hand.

“I’m not going to punish your son, but I can’t unfortunately punish the students who hackled him.”

“What can you do then?” Belle inquired desperately.

Regina shook her head solemnly. “Legally, I can only insist that you take him home for today, but as a former colleague,” she eyed Reid, “and as your friend,” she turned to Belle, “I’m going to offer you some advice.”

The Golds glanced at each other before giving her their consent.

“I’m a mother too, you both know this.”

Reid offered her a small, reminiscent smile. Once upon a time, he had been the most feared lawyer in all of Boston with Regina as his prodigy. He'd trained her to be a ruthless prosecutor who could spot a lie or hesitation a mile away. She was at the height of her career, had made a name for herself and could have even dethroned him anytime she had wanted to. Then the siren called parenthood lured her away, and unlike several of their associates who saw family caring a demotion in career furthering, Gold admired Regina for her sacrifices, and found much more enjoyable to be around as a fellow parent than a colleague.

“If Henry were to go through something like this, I’d do whatever I could to make him feel safe and happy in his own skin.”

Belle smiled appreciatively.

“But I’d also try reaching out.” She added. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you sought professional help?”

The Golds didn’t move, their fidgeting, intertwined hands stilling.

“I see.” Regina nodded, pulling out her purse and shifting through its belongings before pulling out a crumpled card.

“My son once thought I was an evil queen who wanted Mrs. Nolan’s head on a platter.” Regina stated with an indulgent smile. “With the help of this doctor, I discovered that his fantasy was the result of him coming to terms with his adoption.”

Mr. Gold took the card, eyeing the name with a familiar suspicion.

“And you’re sure he can help?” Mr. Gold inquired.

“I’m sure he can try.”

“Now just a minute!” Belle cried out, snatching the card from her husband. “There,” Belle spat at him and Regina. “Is nothing wrong with our son.”

Mr. Gold placed a comforting hand on his wife’s arm, leading her back into the uncomfortable chair meant for disruptive students. 

“I’m not trying to imply anything Mrs. Gold.” The principal assured carefully. “I just want to do what I can to make sure Gideon gets the help he needs.”

“He doesn’t need help!” Belle shouted so nastily her husband and the principal jumped. “He’s not sick, he’s not delusional, he’s who he is! And if that means he likes to dress as a woman than so be it!” the furious mother snatched up her purse and stalked out the door.

“I’m going to find our son. When you’re done antagonizing our son, come join us in the car.”

“Belle!”

The door slammed and Mr. Gold was left alone with his former prodigy.

“Wish I could offer you a drink.” Regina snarked.

“Wish you had one.” Gold sighed, straightening his tie before standing. “I should go to them.”

Regina nodded, slipping on her reading glasses as she began to fall back into professional mode. “I’ll send a group email to his teachers to gather his homework.”

Mr. Gold nodded, heading for the door.

“And Reid?”

He turned to look at his former associate.

“Hang in there.”

His eyes fell, a snarky remark burning the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it. Regina didn’t deserve his malice after all she’d done.

As he left the office to locate his wife and son, the eternal portal filled with guilt dropped from his chest to his stomach, weighing him down and slowing his stride.

As far as Belle knew, Gideon’s dilemma had only begun during the last few months.

However, Mr. Gold knew his son’s struggle with his mind and body had begun when the lad was barely six years old.


	4. The Tragic Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle recalls the morning she discovered her son was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been far too long since I've posted anything! God I'm so happy to be back!

The drive home was quiet and tense, especially since Belle had silently insisted on driving. It was a way for her to focus on something else other than the situation before her. Talking back and forth through the rearview mirror was hardly the way to communicate with one’s child on such a heavy subject as “crossdressing”, as Principal Mills had labeled it.

She wanted to turn the car around and give a piece of her mind to every hypocrite in that school. She also wanted to pull over and hug her boy so tight that all the hurt in his lithe body would squeeze right out. Most off all, she just wanted him to be okay.

Something bigger was going on with her son, something bigger than his need to dress more femininely. She had seen it in his face at the school, this dark, defeated look. Like someone who had lost every shred of hope in their being. It terrified her to her core, and she prayed Gideon would open up to her tonight.

She glanced briefly at her husband who was staring at their son through his sun visor. Something was going on with him as well. In Regina’s office he started off defending their son before changing scripts and considering the idea that Gideon would need psychiatric help.

Three months ago talk of therapy and Gideon’s mental stability hadn’t even been a flicker in their lives. Before the morning Gideon revealed his secret life to his parents, they were…well, normal. They did normal things like game nights and vacations and talked about normal things. Then one Saturday morning while she was making pancakes and her husband was squeezing fresh orange juice into an antique pitcher, everything changed.

“Gideon!” Reid yelled up the stairs for the third time that morning, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to save them from orange pulp. “Get down here son! You’re going to make your mother late!”

Gideon didn’t retort but Gold could hear him moving around and counted that as a response.

Belle—who at the time didn’t have an idea in Hell what was going on in her own home—shook her head indulgently.

“We have time Reid.” Belle assured.

“I know, but I’d like to see our son before you whisk him away for the day.” He told her, kissing her cheek.

Belle giggled and plated the pancakes, turning to his lips, using her free hand to caress his cheek.

Reid moaned, his fingers sliding down to her waist.

Belle pulled away, using her grip on his hair to keep him at bay. “Our son will be down any minute…”

“In the time it’ll take for him to get down, I’ll have had my way with you twice with time for you to reapply your lipstick.”

Belle snorted, circling him to avoid his lustful hands. “Sorry darling. We’ve kept our son unscathed for seventeen years, I intend to keep him that way for seventeen more.” She kissed his pouting lips. “I’ll give him an errand to run during lunch and we’ll meet up then.”

Her husband smiled at the compromise. “I’ll hold you to that.”

They heard a door close above them and separated, both a little flushed and ready to have their breakfast with their son.

It was the clatter of silverware against the floor that signaled the change in the Gold family foundation. When Belle turned around to find her husband paling at the sight of their son, the dying echo of metal-on-hardwood sounded like the beginning of a hurricane.

Gideon Gold stood tall before his parents, looking powerfully confident in his blue mid-calf skirt, silky pink blouse, sensible flats and full-on makeup. He appeared to be glowing inside and out and so enraptured with his newfound confidence that he didn’t see the look of mixed confusion on his parent’s face.

“Morning.” He sighed airly as he circled the counter to pour himself a glass of juice.

Belle turned to her husband to see if he looked as confused as she did. Instead she saw a pale shell of a man standing in his place, his mouth agap and his eyes glassy.

Belle blinked, trying to decipher what was happening within her family.

“G-Gideon?” Belle managed to squeak.

“Yes mum?” Gideon turned, his cheekbones even sharper with the hint of rouge on his cheeks.

Belle made herself stay calm. Seeing her son in women’s clothing was strange yes, but not criminal. Still, something inside her screamed for normality—for her _son_ and not…whoever this was in front of her.

“I…what are you wearing sweetheart?”

Gideon looked down at his carefully chosen attire. He had wanted to look perfect today and had chosen the most comfortable of his secretly bought clothes. He thought he had looked nice and that his makeup was crisp and precise.

“Clothes?” he answered with a grin. “I thought this would be flowy enough to wear to the library. Do you think I should switch shoes?”

Belle turned back to her husband, searching him as if he had the answer written on his well-tailored suit.

“Son,” Mr. Gold croaked, swallowing a lump of guilt at the look on his wife’s face, “go upstairs and change now.”

Gideon’s patient smile faded and a sense of doom filled his dark pupils.

“Is it the shoes…I…I can change the shoes.”

Belle turned back to her son, her beautiful, unique little boy who looked so lost and pained her heart began to crack.

“I won’t ask you again Gideon.” Gold stated firmly though his eyes wavered. “Go change into your _normal_ clothes now.”

That word pulled Belle from her shock stupor and triggered her motherly instincts.

“N-now hang on a minute.” she coughed, turning back to her husband. “Let’s talk about this before we start throwing orders around.”

Gold glanced back to their son, something in his eyes that Belle hadn’t been able to place. He nodded his consent and leaned against the table.

Belle nodded her thanks and gave him a small smile. She wasn’t angry at his reaction to Gideon’s choice in getup; there was no protocol on how a parent was to react to such a thing after all. However she would have no one, not even her husband, make her son feel ashamed of himself.

Belle reached out for Gideon’s cheek, her fingers flinching at the feel of foundation on his soft cheeks. Now closer, she could now see the makeup he wore and how sharper it made his features, highlighting what he had inherited from each of his parents.

“Why are you doing this Gideon?” Belle asked quietly, praying that her son could see openness in her eyes and be honest with her.

“Because…I…” Gideon’s eyes lifted over her head to where his father stood. Belle could almost swear there was some kind of defiance then. Before Belle could turn to see if her husband’s matched, Gideon spoke up once more.

“I’m doing this…I’m dressed like this…because it feels _right_ to me Mother. It feels right… _on me_.”

Belle swallowed and stared at her son, trying to understand exactly what he was telling her. She wasn’t naïve in the least. She knew of the crossdressing and transgender lifestyle, knew they were different and far more complex than any of the award-winning novels she had read could ever describe.

But… _her_ son? How had she never seen this coming, not noticed how…different he was? How had she missed the signs?

“How long has this…felt right sweetheart?” Belle inquired.

Gideon’s eyes lifted again to his father and Belle had an unpleasant thought: had her husband _known?_ Had he known their son— _her baby_ —was going through this and had the audacity not to tell her?

She forced herself to keep calm. Confronting Reid and screaming at him to tell her what the Hell was going on would only make Gideon shut down and then this whole thing would spiral into oblivion. Instead, she took another look over her son’s outfit and slid her hands down to his shoulders. There were still so many questions that needed to be answered but right now her son needed her support.

“I think you should change the shoes.”

Gideon blinked, tears of relief brimming in his eyes. Belle had the strangest urge to wipe off the mascara threatening to leak down his cheeks but instead took a step back.

“I’ll be right back.” She told him quietly, feeling suddenly drained and shaky. She felt like she was walking through a fog as she made her way to her bedroom where she looked for a pair of unworn heels in her closet. She recalled vaguely that her husband had ordered them from a high-class cobbler on their last wedding anniversary. Beautiful as they were, the cobbler had made them much too large for her petite feet. She had stored them at the top of her closet after that, something inside her telling her not to throw them away.

Apparently women gained the hazy ability to foresee the future when they became mothers.

Belle caressed the box of shoes, wishing the answers to the questions inside her head were inside it instead of some hand-me-down heels.

A clatter snapped her from her daze, followed by the loud brogues of her husband and son. She couldn’t make out the exact words, but she knew the sound of a disagreement and also knew that now was hardly the time for one. She sighed and tucked the box under her arm as she exited the bedroom, stopping in middle of the hallway when her son came speeding past her, kitten heels in his hands as he rushed to his room.

“Gideon!” she called after him, dropping the box to the floor and dashing after him. She made it just in time for him to slam and lock the door. She fruitlessly fought with the knob, banging on the wood desperately.

“Gideon, sweetheart please!”

 _“Go away!”_ Gideon screamed from the other side, something hard hitting the door a moment later (one of the heels if Belle to guess).

She fought with the door a moment more before giving up, leaning against it tiredly.

“Gideon, I don’t know what’s going on, why this is happening, but you don’t have to be afraid or ashamed. I love you Gideon. You never have to hide yourself from me.”

She received no answer and after a moment decided to give him the space he needed. She made a quick turnabout to pick up the shoe box, torn between putting it back as far into the closet as she could and leaving it at her son’s door. She finally decide on the latter; her son needed her support right now.

She returned to the kitchen to find her husband solemnly sweeping up the remains of her favorite antique pitcher into the dustpan. She watched the soft bristles glide against the linoleum, the sharp clattering of the glass breaking what could have been a lulling silence. Her eyes lifted to her husband who had yet to acknowledge her reentry or give an explanation to the broken pitcher.

And as he finished mopping up the sticky orange juice and walked quietly out the garden door, Belle remained silent. She didn’t call out to him, didn’t inquire what had happened between him and Gideon in the three minutes she was gone. She let him walk away to gather himself as she needed to. A moment later when she burst out into tears, she was thankful he had left.

Somehow the Gold matriarch was able to declare normalcy by dinner time. She made a simple grilled chicken salad, a favorite of both Gideon’s and Reid’s, in hopes of lulling her son into the kitchen. Reid had sent her a text stating that he was on the way home and Belle was determined to make this evening as peaceful as any other night.

She didn’t turn around right away when she heard Gideon trudging down the stairs, uncertain of what she would see. She chastised herself instantly for the hesitation. This was her _child_ regardless of what he came down dressed in.

“Mother?”

Belle’s chin wobbled as she smiled. He only ever called her that when he was about to ask for something astronomical, such as borrowing the car or an advance allowance. She stilled herself and turned to face her baby, finding him in a pair of freshly washed jeans and a plain t-shirt. He was her boy again, the only remains of his change being the eyeshadow that had stubbornly refused to fade from his skin.

“I…couldn’t get it all off…” he stated quietly when he noticed her staring.

Belle blinked back tears and approached her son, her hand hovering over his cheek. She could feel the heat from where he had been scrubbing, his delicately soft skin bruised by the harsh treatment. Gideon had never had much luck with facial hair, and now she wondered if any of _this_ had anything to do with it.

He was so special, so unlike anyone she had ever known. And he was a part of her, a part of her husband, a mix of both of their flaws and perfections.

He was theirs, and such a concept hadn’t seemed so vast and phenomenal until now when the boy they’d raised discovered he had another person under his skin.

“Hold on.” Belle said, making a quick dash to the hall bathroom where she kept some of her essentials. A moment later she returned with what looked like to Gideon a pack of napkins. Belle plucked out one and gently wiped at the places he couldn’t quite erase.

“Makeup wipes.” Belle smiled. “Soft and efficient. I keep them in the third drawer upstairs.”

Gideon’s strong fingers wrapped around hers, stilling her movements.

“You’re…okay with this then?” he asked, his expression unsure and awaiting the sting of a mother’s rejection. “Of…me?”

Belle forced herself to hold back her tears. “Of course baby. You’re my child. I don’t care how you dress or what you want to be. I just want you to be safe and happy.”

A tear slid down Gideon’s sharp cheek and Belle instinctively wiped it away.

“Everything’s going to be alright sweetheart.” She said as she pulled her towering son into an embrace. “Your father and I love you no matter what.”

Belle felt Gideon tense at the mention of his father. Before she could question why, the back door opened and Reid entered, his face stoic and his hands full.

Belle stepped in front of her son as if to shield him.

“Reid, we need to talk.”

Mr. Gold riffled through the bag he had brought in and pulled out a long silver dress. Belle recognized it as the same dress that had been hanging in the shop for nearly a year since Reid had bought it and a few other garments in a chest at an estate sale. It had been made for a woman of tall stature and had been gathering dust for far too long.

“Here.” Mr. Gold slid it across the table to Gideon, not quite meeting his eyes. “I thought maybe you could…try this out or something.”

Gideon’s hand hovered over the garment, hesitating taking the non-verbal apology.

Belle watched the exchange worriedly, as if Gideon accepting the dress would seal his fate.

Suddenly, Gideon chuckled.

“Sequin. Really dad”

Mr. Gold’s hard expression suddenly melted and soon enough he was laughing right along with his son.

Breathtakingly relieved, Belle joined in, and for a moment her family was whole again.

Now that beautiful moment of love and understanding nothing. Deteriorated after one incident. The teens of Storybrooke would announce the happenings at Storybrooke High to their parents at dinner time and tomorrow her son would have a target for ridicule on his back.

Belle gripped the steering wheel, the hard metal bruising her palms. The school may not be “able” to do anything about the students, but Belle could. She’d contact the parents and give them the chance to set their children straight. If that didn’t work, she contact a lawyer…well, technically she was married to one. That would work in her favor if it came to that. Reid would fight for their son just as hard as her.

It was a ragged game plan, but she would build it up as the problems came along. She’d be damned if her baby was going to suffer under the thumbs of those heathens.

“Belle slow down you’re about to miss our turn.” Mr. Gold alerted.

Belle gasped and turned quickly, causing the occupants to tense as Belle narrowly missed one of their neighbor’s mailboxes.

Mr. Gold muttered a curse but didn’t point out Belle’s lapsed driving as he would have had the mood been lighter.

As soon as they were in the safety of their driveway, Gideon jumped from the car and made a dash for the door.

“Gideon!” Belle called after him.

“Son!”

Gideon didn’t heed his parents but instead dug out his key and ran inside as soon as the door was open.

Gold moved first, sprinting from the passenger seat and up the stairs. Belle stayed in the car, staring at the empty place beside her. She was alone. No need to maintain the guise of the strong matriarch who dealt with her family’s issues with cunning and grace. She could now be the broken mother who didn’t know how to save her baby.

In frustration she slapped the steering wheel and paused, letting the sting ease away before doing it again.

And again.

And again.

And again until she was slapping the wheel repeatedly and crying out in pain and anger and hatred at herself and at the world.

She had to stop when tears blinded her to the point where she couldn’t see the steering wheel. Instead she leaned against the window and sobbed until even her son’s face was a blur in her own mind.

 


	5. The Monster on the Stairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Gold recalls the day he discovered his son was special.

“Gideon!”

Mr. Gold chased his son up the stairs as fast as he could, but Gideon had a good six inches more of leg on him and reached the top of the stairs before Mr. Gold barely made the middle step.

“Gideon for god’s sake stop son!”

To his surprise Gideon did stop, but he kept his back to his father.

Gold reached the top of the stairs, panting and staring up at his son.

“Gideon.” Gold wheezed. “Son, please…”

Gideon turned to face his father and for the first time that day, Gideon’s eyes met his, and they were so full of discouragement that Gold could have vomited. His nails dug into the wooden banister, anger and hatred brewing in his gut towards the people who made his son—his beautiful unique boy—feel so uncomfortable in his skin.

There had been a time when such a concept hadn’t been a twinkle in Gideon’s eye, when he was young and innocent and unashamed of anything.

Reid Gold was sure he could pinpoint the day everything in their lives changed, not knowing then that the amusing moment between both father and son was the beginning and the end of Gideon Matthey Gold.

It had been a hot day, he recalled, summer in fact. A time when Storybrooke’s youth could run ramped, experiment and adventure until their parents called them in for the night. Those whose required more structure or who needed extra money for vacations worked part time at the diner or the daycare. Those otherwise took part in the reading program Belle had set up in the library.

Gideon had loved spending those days with his mother, setting up the events, choosing the books, and he recalled solemnly, helping Belle pick out the dresses she would wear that day. He enjoyed the latter the most.

It was on that blistering day that the heat had been too much for the young five-year old and he had had no choice but to stay home with his father (who had refused to go out into the blasted heat and open shop). All had been uneventful until late afternoon when Belle had phoned to inquire about dinner plans.

“We could go to the diner.” Belle suggested.

“It’s Friday.” Mr. Gold reminded her. “It’ll be packed and it’s hot enough without being shoulder-to-shoulder with Storybrooke’s sweaty tourists.”

Belle snorted in amusement. “Okay smart guy, what is our son in the mood for?”

“Do you even need to ask? Pizza!” he recited the last word in a pitched tone to (poorly) intimidate his son’s voice.

Belle laughed joyously over the phone. “Sounds great. But make a salad so we can tell the other parents we actually try to feed our son right.”

The couple chatted pleasantly for a moment more before Gold said his goodbyes and went upstairs to locate his son. He was a bit surprised to not find the boy in his room where he had been the majority of the day. He began to make his way towards the bathroom when he heard a hushed giggle coming from his and Belle’s room.

While Gideon wasn’t necessarily banned from his parents’ room, the Golds had tried to teach him the importance of permission and privacy, thus the young boy usually stayed where he knew he was welcomed. Yet, when Mr. Gold peaked curiously inside, he found the boy standing in front of their full-length mirror with a pair of Belle’s heels on his feet and her favorite blue dress sagging over his play clothes.

The first thought to go through the father’s mind was that Belle was going to be very irritated that her son had wrinkled her favorite silk dress.

The second thought was why was his son donned out in his wife’s clothes?

He watched his son twirl awkwardly in Belle’s size six shoe, giggling as he fruitlessly soothed the fabric of her dress. He looked so happy that Gold didn’t have the heart to intervene on his playtime, even if he was concerned.

He knew it was normal for children to imitate their parents, talk like them and dress like them, however it had never crossed his mind that children would do this with the parent of the opposite sex. Sure, Gideon idolized his mother, adored her in every way a son adored their mother, but he had always hoped that he would walk in on Gideon playing with his father’s ties and vests and not…this.

Gold leaned against the door, causing it to squeak as it opened. Gideon shot around, eyes wide from being caught.

_Full of discouragement?_

No, just the boyish fear of being snuck up on.

“Papa you scared me!” Gideon giggled, holding up the ends of Belle’s dress so that he could bound awkwardly towards his father.

Gold kneeled to place a hand on Gideon’s head to steady him from tripping. “Pardon me…” he apologized, seeing the full extent of Gideon’s getup now that he was close. He had Belle’s limited-edition lipstick smeared on his lips and chin, blush and orange eyeshadow he recalled Belle using with a Halloween costume last year.

“That’s…a very interesting look you have.” Gold commented with a small smile.

Gideon’s smudged eyes widened and he smiled with glee. “Am I pwetty like Mommy?”

Mr. Gold released a wet laugh, not in mockery or humor of the situation but at little Gideon’s innocent outlook on his game of dress-up. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, Mr. Gold chastised himself. A little unordinary perhaps, but nothing close to damnable.

“You look very…unique.” The father insisted with an indulgent smile. “But…” he reached out to swipe a glob of lipstick from the corner of Gideon’s mouth. “I think we need to work on your coordination before you try lipstick again.” He looked down at the dress. “And color scheme. I think your more of an autumn than a summer, m’boy.”

Gideon stared at his father curiously.

“I’ll explain later.” Gold stated, standing uneasily. “In the meantime, let’s get you in the tub.”

Gideon’s smile faded slightly, his bright eyes looking down at the dress he was in longingly.

“Can I…wear the dress just a little longer papa?”

“…why would you want to do that son?”

Gideon twirled lightly in the material. “Because I look pretty.”

Mr. Gold froze, his mind going blank for a response. He wanted to allow his son this flicker of happiness but something—something Gold knew had no business in the mind of a parent—wanted to crush it.

He quickly banished the thought from his mind, reminding his self that this was child’s play—nothing more and nothing worth getting upset about.

“How about,” Gold compromised, “you take off the dress and I add bubbles to the bath. We can even pull out the bath toys for a little while, yeah?”

Gideon’s hopeful look faded, but he smiled mildly and nodded his consent, pulling the silky material slowly over his head. He hugged the dress to his chest for a moment before handing it to his papa.

_Discouragement._

Gold felt a shameful sense of relief when Belle’s dress was in his hands, but also a dark churn of guilt at seeing the defeated look on his little boy’s face.

“Hey.” Gold smiled, talking hold of the boy by his sides and hoisting him up in the air (and out of Belle’s shoes). Thankfully, Gideon squealed in delight and the dark cloud over him momentarily cleared. 

He sat him down and Gideon went trudging off to turn on the water for his bath (which, despite his mother’s protest, he was old enough to do). As soon as he heard the water running he shot into action, stuffing the dress into the bottom of the hamper and placing the heels back in their proper place in the walk-in closet.

He then set to work on Belle’s vanity which was littered with makeup dust, opened lipstick tubes, and nearly deflated lotion tubes. He cleared it all away quickly, making a mental checklist of what he would have to replace, all the while wondering why he was even covering this up. Belle would be annoyed by the destruction of her makeup table, but not angry at Gideon for being a child. She might even laugh about it.

Yet he continued to clean the table like his life depended on it. Like Gideon’s life depended on it. Something in his mind didn’t want this near his family, near his little boy.

With shaky, discolored hands he entered the bathroom where Gideon had added a bit too many bubbles to the bath.

Mr. Gold heeded the suds no mind and pulled the stool he kept in the bathroom to the side of the tub, turning off the water. The little boy was forming the bubbles into a sort of hat for the plastic frog he was playing with.

“Hey son,” Mr. Gold greeted as cheerfully as he could. “How about we keep today a secret, just between you and me?”

Gideon glanced away from his toy, staring at his father with large brown eyes.

“Why?”

Mr. Gold grimaced, considering for a moment about dropping what he was about to say and leaving the boy alone.

“Well son, you know how you can only dress up in a costume on Halloween?”

Gideon nodded.

“Well, if you wore a costume everyday, Halloween wouldn’t be a special when it came around now would it?”

Gideon shrugged.

“Now to mention,” Mr. Gold added to get to the main point of his speech. “some people might not understand.”

“But you and mama told me not to worry what people think.” Gideon recited.

Damn, they did. Curse his and Belle’s life-sustaining messages.

“That is true m’boy. But sometimes…you have to care just a wee bit. Because some people will do whatever they can to make you feel different, and they won’t stop.”

Mr. Gold saw the flash of uncertainty flash in his eyes and stopped. He wished he could explain this in a way that wouldn’t scare the boy; that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“But hey,” Mr. Gold smiled, patting the little boy’s wet hair. “you will always be safe here. You can…always be yourself.”

Gideon perked up. “I can wear the dress again?”

Mr. Gold swallowed hard but nodded. “Sure son, let’s…let’s just not tell your mum yet. Let’s keep this our secret…for now, okay?”

Gideon frowned. He had been looking forward to his mama seeing how pretty he could be. But she might not like him playing with her dress and makeup, and he didn’t want to get in trouble.

“Okay papa.”

To the present day, Belle had no knowledge of the events that day. Her son had been scrubbed clean, and if he **and** her husband looked a bit crestfallen she blamed the heat.

Now she couldn’t blame the summer heat that stopped her child from having a fun day. It was autumn and her son was decked out in a light cardigan and full-fledged makeup and the laughing stock of his school.

“It didn’t work.”

Mr. Gold looked up, his son’s bitter voice breaking him from his daze.

“What didn’t work son?”

Gideon shook his head, gasping as he sought for the words.

Mr. Gold moved closer, hands reaching out to balance his son.

“What happened this morning Gideon?” he asked gently. “Why did you go out like that? We agreed…”

A sob cut Mr. Gold off and he took hold of Gideon’s arms just in time to prevent him from dropping to the ground. He balanced him against the banister, holding him up as he curled into himself.

“I thought it would be okay…” Gideon sobbed into his lap. “I thought…I thought it wouldn’t matter…”

Mr. Gold held his son up, wishing Belle was by his side to give Gideon the motherly comfort he needed.

However, it was time for a talk between father and son. One of many they’d had since Gideon first revealed himself to him all those years ago.

“Son,” Mr. Gold whispered just in case Belle made an appearance. “Gideon you remember what I told you…the day you told your mother about…this?”

Gideon’s dead-set eyes met his father. “The day I expected you stand by my side when I told mother about who I was? Oh yes _, papa_ , I remember it well.”

Mr. Gold was a bit taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, and also ashamed by the reminder in the lapse of bravery that day.

Belle had retreated upstairs after suggesting Gideon change his shoes. Mr. Gold wasn’t quite sure what she was going to retrieve (or if she needed a moment to compose herself) but he did know that he could finally breathe.

He waited until she was up the stairs before he turned to his son. Gideon looked…relieved, and Gold felt a wave of guilt churn in his stomach.

“Gideon.” Mr. Gold spoke.

Gideon turned to his father, his smile fading at the site of his bitter frown.

“What?” he growled, knowing a fight was underway.

Mr. Gold spared a glance up the stairs before moving closer. “What are you doing?”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “I’m getting fashion advice from my mother. Is that a problem?”

Mr. Gold’s jaw clenched. “We agreed you wouldn’t—”

“No you—” Gideon glanced upstairs and lowered his voice. “You’re the one who told me not to tell her! To hide who I am from her! But I’m sick of it dad. I’m sick of hiding who I am. I want out!”

“And you will be.” Mr. Gold tried to assure him. “When you’re 18—”

“Don’t bring that up again. I can’t wait another year. I need out **now**.”

“Son, you can’t—”

“Why?” Gideon yelled. “You told me I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You don’t.”

“Then why the hell do you keep me from being myself?”

“Because **_they_** won’t understand you!” Mr. Gold finally shouted, his hand swinging out to point to the outside world, knocking the pitcher of orange juice off the counter.

Gideon jumped from the violence but the fear in his eyes did little to settle the seething father.

“There are people out there who will **_destroy_** you for being different! They’ll go after you, and they’ll go after your mother! You’ve put both you and her in danger!”

Gideon froze, his glassy eyes searching around the room. He was panicking obviously and Mr. Gold regretted every word that had just left his mouth.

“No Gideon I’m sorry I didn’t mean—”

“Stay away from me.” Gideon gasped, picking up his discarded heels and turning to the stairs.

Mr. Gold reached out for him. “Please son I-”

“Get the _fuck_ away from me dad!” Gideon shouted, racing up the stairs before his father could grab him.

Mr. Gold let him go but wished he could start anew. What had he done? What kind of a parent said things like that to their child?

Him apparently.

Could he justify what he had said to Gideon? It was out of fear that he had said those things, fear of his wife’s and son’s safety. This town hated him and not above attacking his property to spite him. Who could guess what they would do to his family.

When he heard Belle call after Gideon, he made himself busy cleaning up the mess he and Gideon made. He turned his back to the stairs when he heard Belle’s quiet footsteps. He couldn’t face her, couldn’t tell her what he had done and how he had all but broken their son.

So he left them. He left his loving wife and son to brew in their fear and sadness and he spent the day in his dusty, cold shop doing the same.

“You abandoned me.”

Gideon’s growl brought Mr. Gold from his remembrance, and when he met the boys eyes, he did not like what he saw.

“You stood there and berated me, acted like you had no idea what I was _in front of her.”_

 _“_ I know I did Gideon. I—”

“Why do you keep doing this?” Gideon seethed, eyes pooling. “Why do you keep telling me I’m okay and then turn around and ostracize me?”

“Gideon, try to understand that everything I do is to protect you—”

“From what?!” Gideon boomed, his lithe body shaking so hard Mr. Gold was afraid he’d trip down the stairs.

“From mom?” Gideon laughed, and really it was hilarious. “She doesn’t care dad, and if you had told her all those years ago she wouldn’t have cared then!”

“She might not Gideon but the people she’d told would have!”

Gideon paused, taking in the scorn his father was displaying towards his mother.

“Mom wouldn’t have done that to me. She wouldn’t have just…told the whole world about me like that.”

“Not on purpose son. Your mother has one unfortunate flaw: she trusts people too easily. She would have told someone about you in confidence and they would have stabbed her in the back.”

“No…”

“Yes…”

“She wouldn’t!”

“She would have and it would have gotten worse from then on out! I’ve told you this before! Storybrooke is the kind of town that doesn’t let anyone be different! They will sniff it out and crush it! I never want that to happen to your mom and you!”

Gideon’s breath became labored and his nails dug into the carpet.

“Son.” Mr. Gold took the boy by his shoulders, fearing he was about to fall into a panic attack. “Son it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

A sound between a sob and a laugh left Gideon’s throat. He lifted his head and the look in his eyes chilled his father to the bone.

“No, Papa, everything is not going to be okay. I’m out. I showed all those people at school who I really am…and I can’t take that back. And you know what, I don’t care. If they kill me tomorrow, I don’t care because I’ll be **me**. And dad, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Mr. Gold released him, staring at his son in disbelief. _What had he done to him?_

Wait…

Mr. Gold gently moved Gideon’s shaking hands from his face and realized why he had been so shaken when he had looked into his eyes.

Those were not his son’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, the next chapter is much lighter, I had to get the angst out of the way.


	6. The Buzzing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal tries to find out what's wrong with Gideon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-magical AU. Gideon is struggling with his sexual orentation, as he is leaning towards transgender, and this “person in his head” I got so many questions about is still him, but his inner self coming out.

Neal knew the second he walked into his house, all hell was going to break loose. He’d missed his first two classes that day on account of his “spying” on Gideon.

“I wasn’t spying!” Neal insisted to Robyn at lunch. “I was just…looking after him.”

Robyn chuckled around the straw in her chocolate milk. “You were an hour away from being labeled a stalker. Really anime of you.” She snorted.

Neal shushed her, glancing around at the eyes that had been watching him since he sat down at the table. Gideon’s stunt had been all anyone could talk about. Some were labeling it a start-of-the-semester prank, others were insisting that he had finally snapped from being Gold’s son. No matter what the story was, everyone was turning to Neal for answers. Everyone knew he and Gideon were close, and he was more than certain that there were some rumors going around about him as well. However, he didn’t have answers, for them or himself. Even if he did, he wouldn’t exploit Gideon’s personal life like that.

Robyn exchanged the homework chapters from the classes he missed, and he went about the rest of the day in a daze. It wasn’t until he received a message from his mom to come straight home that his concern for Gideon turned into fear for his own life. The school must have notified his mother of the classes he missed. Damn living in a small town!

When he opened the door to his family’s cozy apartment, he found his parents waiting for him, arms-crossed and faces set in disappointment.

“Hi.” Neal gulped in greeting.

“Hello Neal,” his mother returned acidly. “How was school?”

Neal managed not to roll his eyes at her dumb attempt of a setup. “Honestly Mom, it was exhausting.”

“Oh, that’s strange considering you missed half of it!” Mary Margaret exclaimed. David gave his son a look that said: “you really should have seen that coming”.

Neal groaned. Did she really have to do this?

“I wasn’t skipping Mom,” Neal said. “Something happened with Gideon and I stuck around the office to be sure he was okay.”

“For three hours?” Mary Margaret scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that? Did he convince you to skip?”

Neal’s fist clenched. “Nothing like that happened. He…” Neal trailed off, unsure how to tell his modern but intense mother about Gideon’s crossdressing spell.

“He’s…not well.” Neal said, hoping his parents would sense the distress in his voice. His father’s gaze softened, and though his mother’s hard resolve did as well, her arms remained crossed and her hip cocked, the “mom-pose” a tell-all sign that he was still in trouble.

“Well, that maybe so,” Mary Margaret shrugged. “But he has two parents who can worry about that. It’s your senior year, Neal. You can’t afford any gaps.”

“I know, Mom.” Neal agreed, wanting this conversation to end so that he could go upstairs and call Gideon and Robyn. “It won’t happen again.” He lied.

“I’m glad you see the error of your ways, but you’re still grounded for the rest of the week.”

“What? Mom that’s not fair!” Neal protested.

David looked like he wanted to add some much-needed resolve, but Mary Margaret’s stance remained firm, though her gaze lowered.

“Put your cellphone on the table. Now, Neal.”

Neal gritted his teeth to keep himself from outright cursing his mom and dad. He put his phone on the table and made a beeline to the stairs.

“It’s for your own good.” His mother called after him. Neal remained silence and stomped up to his loft bedroom. He could hear his parents converting in hushed tones as he flopped down on the bed and resisted the urge to scream into his pillow like a child.

 Why was he being punished for being a good friend? His parents had encouraged this type of behavior his whole life, so why was it suddenly the wrong thing to do?

His parents weren’t unreasonable people…well, at least his dad wasn’t. David Nolan was far more laid back than his mom, having come from a simpler, more rural upbringing. He believed that if lessons were learned when mistakes were made then corporal punishments were unnecessary (though that didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be an outrageous surplus of chores to do afterwards). He was cordial with the Gold’s and always seemed to have kind words for Belle, making the times Gideon stepped foot in the Nolan home much more relaxed.

Mary Margaret Nolan nee Blanchard was much more…refined.

She had grown up as a daddy’s girl, rich and wanting for nothing, though unspoiled enough due to a tame hand from her mother, who passed when she was only 10. When her father died when she was 18, the money was gone and she had taken on a much simpler life, including going to a simple tech school where she would later meet her husband, and was all the more happier for it, though some of her snobbiness was still embedded deep in her bones.

He knew that she had issues with Gideon’s father simply because he was their landlord, though she and Belle were civil enough. She’d always been cool and polite to Gideon but there was always this stiffness in her spine whenever he came around. Neal had always brushed it off as an uncertainty on how she was going to feed wo growing teenage boys, but now there seemed to be a darker undertone to her brashness.

After a while his parents’ whispers mingled with the sound of dinner preparations. Neal flinched with each sound of pots and pans scraping. When he was a kid he thought having a loft bedroom was neat, but now he wished his parents had gone through with their plans to buy the fixer-upper farmhouse outside of Storybrooke so that he’d have an actual room with walls.

Moments later, his father knocked on the wall at the foot of the stairs, waiting for permission to enter. Receiving silence, he slowly made his way inside and sat on the edge of the bed.

“We’re out of milk.” David stated.

“This concerns me how?” Neal shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

David waited until noise picked back up in the kitchen before he scooted closer to Neal’s side.

“Meaning that I need to go up town to get some more and…well…I saw that there was some roadwork being done on Main street.”

Neal dared a glance at his strange dad. “And?”

David rolled his eyes. “Come on son, work with me! Road work is being done on Main street where the supermarket is, meaning…what?”

Neal stared at his father before the double meaning of his request sunk in. “Meaning you’ll have to take a detour.”

“ **We’ll** have to take a detour.” David winked. “Grab your jacket and continue to look p-oed in front of your mom.”

Neal nodded, hiding his grin as he got ready. He kept his eyes cast down when he got downstairs, muttering a goodbye to his mother and breaking into a grin when his dad closed the door.

“So how sick is he?” David asked in the car. “You looked shaken when you told us.”

Neal shrugged, playing with his seatbelt strap. “It’s not a physical thing. I mean, I don’t think it is.”

The father nodded, not pressing for too many details just yet. “Did you get to talk to him?”

“No. I really didn’t know what to say.”

David turned off of Main Street to the more upscale neighborhood where the Golds lived. “Sometimes there isn’t much to say. Sometime the only thing you can do is just be there and listen.” He risked a second to take his eyes off the road to give his son a comforting smile. “It’s gotten your mother and I through over two decades of marriage.”

Neal rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Sometimes his parents were overly romantic dorks.

“Well, Gideon and I aren’t exactly in a relationship.”

David snorted, the gesture the only comment he needed to make.

Finally, they reached the Gold’s residence and Neal felt a strange wake of tension sink in when he stepped onto their front porch. His father must have sensed it as well because the worry lines on his forehead were deep-seated as he knocked on the door, a sign that he was ready to go into sheriff-mode.

The door of the Gold home opened within a few seconds after the knock, but relief was not given to either of the Nolan men when Belle Gold stepped into view.

Her eyes were red and swollen, her lips shaking as she forced a smile of greeting.

“Neal, David, what a surprise.” She managed to say though her voice shook.

Out of the corner of his eye Neal could see his father stiffen, now in full sheriff-mode.

“Belle, is everything alright?” David inquired, peaking around her into the house.

“What? Of course!” Belle assured with a glassy smile. “We’ve just…it’s been a rough day.”

David nodded, his demeanor settling. “Forgive us for stopping by unannounced we…” he bumped his shoulder against his son’s.

“Homework!” Neal exclaimed, blushing as he cleared his throat. “I have…homework. To share with Gideon.”

Belle smiled fondly at her son’s best friend and stepped aside. “He’s upstairs, dear.”

Neal nodded his thanks and buzzed past Mrs. Gold.

Belle turned to David next. “Would you like some tea?”

-,-,-

Neal tried to slow his pace up the stairs, but his limbs seemed to want him to get to the second floor as quickly as possible. He knew exactly where Gideon’s room was, but found himself hesitating outside of his room. He hadn’t entered since the beginning of the summer, mainly due to Gideon’s mysterious withdrawal—which now didn’t seem so mysterious.

Neal couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. This episode today was probably nothing—a prank or a lapse of sanity on Gideon’s end. They’d have a few laughs, call Robyn up and let her in on the joke, and move on.

Just as he was about the turn the knob, the door flew open and he nearly collided into Mr. Gold.

“Oh,” Mr. Gold greeted, stepping around him, “good evening, Neal.”

Neal nodded at the Gold-family patriarch, uneasiness filling up his gut as he peaked into the room. Gideon was sitting on the end of his bed, his head clasped under his tightly folded hands. Neal noticed with some relief that he was dressed in a pair of overly washed jeans and a plaid shirt, clothes that were no doubt supposed to highlight his masculinity, but only seemed to express how foreign he looked in them.

He didn’t look up when Neal entered the room, and Neal didn’t bother to disturb him just yet. His father’s advice turned to ash in his mouth now that he was looking at his friend. How did you tell someone everything was going to be okay when you had no idea what was wrong with them?

Gideon had heard his father greet Neal but didn’t acknowledge him just yet, not wanting him to see his face until his tears dried.

“Hey.” Neal greeted with a crooked smile.

Gideon wiped his face, even though he had longed scrubbed off the remains of his makeup.

“Hi.” He returned with forced grin of his own.

Neal glanced around Gideon’s immaculate room. There was no evidence that anything had changed since the last time he had been here, no indication that Gideon had changed. He wondered how Gideon had been able to hide it so well, and he wondered more how he had been so blind.

“I uh…” Neal fidgeted with his binder, “I brought your homework…well, my homework but…”

Gideon nodded but didn’t take the extended binder. “Mills gave my parents a copy.”

“…Ah.” Neal acknowledged, his segue for conversation now undercut by their pristine principal. “Well…”

“Is that the only reason you came?” Gideon inquired, a faint trace of hope coating his quiet voice.

“Of course, it’s not.” Neal finally admitted, closing the door and moving to sit beside Gideon on the bed. “What the hell happened today Gideon? You…” he paused when Gideon flinched and cut off his questions.

“Are you okay?” Neal whispered.

Gideon nodded, slow and shaky, but after a moment his false sense of security dropped and shook his head.

“I’m so confused…”

Neal was taken aback when tears streamed down Gideon’s sharp cheekbones. He’d never seen Gideon full-on cry, accept during the occasional movie (in which he would deny every tear with a vengeance).

“I can’t hold it together…I can’t keep… _being_ this!”

Neal glanced at the closed door, wondering if Gideon had told his father about his dark thoughts. He wanted to fetch him, to include him on Gideon’s breakdown. He needed to be here for this. Yet for some reason Neal couldn’t get himself to move. The fear-shimmering tears running down Gideon’s face was tantalizing to watch, and Neal felt a bite of guilt from finding beauty in his friend’s pain.

“Being what, Gid?” Neal managed to croak.

 _“This!”_ Gideon burst, pulling aggressively at his gender-appropriate shirt, stretching it until it just about tore.

“Hey, quit it!” Neal begged, jumping up and grabbing at Gideon’s thin wrists.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Gideon sobbed, falling to his knees and bringing Neal with him.

Neal struggled for balance and released on of Gideon’s wrists, keeping a firm grip on the other.

“Do what? Gideon stop with the blank answers and just tell me what’s wrong, _please_! You’re freaking me out!”

Gideon struggled to breath, struggled to think. All he could feel was a numbing buzzing under his skin, eating through his bones and pores.

“I’m wrong Neal,” he whispered so quietly Neal had to kneel closer to hear.

“Wrong…how? Where?”

“Inside. I’m wrong inside…and outside. I look in the mirror and I’m not there…I don’t think I ever have been.”

Neal wanted to shake Gideon, feeling more confused and scared the longer he danced around the truth.

“Gideon please…”

One of Gideon’s hands slipped under the bed, pulling a string-tied box out. Neal was rather surprised that after years of coming into this room he’d never noticed such a thing.

“Look…”

Neal hesitated to pull the twine from the box, to unveil the secret that was eating Gideon alive. If he was to help his friend move forward, he had no choice. He prayed however that there was something along the lines of kinky porn magazines or sex toys rather than dead animals or something.

He held his breath as he pulled the top off, his mind stilling when he saw that inside the box were an assortment of women’s clothing and makeup. Neal’s fingertips grazed over the soft fabric and powder-covered tubes and brushes. He moved one of the silk shirts away to uncover a soft wig. His hand shot back and he turned in astonishment to his friend.

“My dad made me back it all up today…as punishment I suppose.” Gideon shrugged.

 “I don’t understand,” Neal gasped. “You’ve never mentioned any of this to me. How long have your parents know?”

Gideon paused for a moment, his tear-stained face stilling with exhaustion.

“For a while it was just my dad.” He said, a note of bitterness laced in his tone.

Neal glanced at the door and then back to his friend. “Your mom?”

Gideon’s lip twitched in a smile. “Earlier this summer, but I wanted to tell her so many times…wanted to share this part of myself with her…but I couldn’t. Dad and I were…afraid.”

Neal sat back on his heels, covering his mouth as he struggled to process what Gideon was trying to tell him.

“I don’t…Gideon when…how…”

“Please stop calling me that.”

Neal paused, staring at his friend as a cold sweat ran down his back.

“What? What did you say?”

Gideon looked up, his bloodshot eyes barely looking at him, but more through him. Through the very room they were in.

“Don’t call me that name anymore. It’s not who I am.”

Neal stared at Gideon as he turned away, wondering if at any second Gideon was going to reveal this whole thing was a gag and everything would be back to normal in the morning.

But that didn’t happen, and the longer Neal stared at him, the more prominent his facial features started to take on a more feminine form.

Mind reeling, Neal made a shaky step to the door. “I…I have to go.”

“Okay.” Gideon accepted, barely looking Neal’s way.

“Um…” Neal struggled to speak. “Will you…be in school tomorrow?”

Gideon’s mouth opened and closed, his cloudy and mind and struggling for an answer. Perhaps he was trying to interpret whether the question was for _him_ , or the person he was trying to become.

“I…I’ll try.” Gideon finally said.

Neal nodded. “Okay, well, see you then.”

“Bye.” Gideon responded, turning over and carefully soothing the clothes and wig in the box.

Neal watched him, noticing the small tug of a smile on the corner of his mouth as he touched the soft fabrics. He actually seemed happy; perhaps there was more truth in his confession that Neal thought.

He remembered his words of advice, but couldn’t make himself relay them.

As far as Neal was concerned, things were not going to be alright until this whole thing was sorted out, both with Gideon and the people closest to him.

He closed the door quietly and felt the strongest urge to get out of the Gold home as quickly as possible, something that he had never wanted to do before. He rushed down the stairs and to the truck, blocking out his father’s calls behind him.

Sometime later his father returned and started up the truck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as the truck purred.

“Nope.” Neal returned, keeping his face pressed against the window.

David’s silence was Neal’s response, and he was thankful for his father’s silent understanding.

As they pulled away from the Gold’s, Neal averted his eyes as Gideon’s silhouette appeared through his bedroom window.

-,-,-,-

“Where have you two been?”

David and Neal flinched at Mary Margaret’s demand for a timestamp of their location for the last hour. They had overstayed at the Golds much longer than they meant too, and Neal now had more questions than answers. Not to mention they had forgotten the milk entirely.

“Uh…there was a…disturbance at the grocery store.” David lied, trying to meet his wife’s eyes. She was a bad liar, but he was even worse.

“Where, in the milk aisle?” Mary Margaret barked, her hands moving from her hips to her arms, a terrifying pose that made both father and son shiver.

“I know you were at the Gold’s!” she exclaimed. “Kathryn called and told me.”

David frowned. “Kathryn, a woman who’s husband you barely talk to at work, called you to gossip about what was going on outside of her living room window?”

Mary Margaret hesitated, being caught in a lie of her own. “But don’t change the subject. You lied to me!”

“Okay, this stops now.” David stated, stepping between his wife and son. “Yes, we made a stop at the Golds, but only because Neal was worried about his friend.”

Mary Margaret turned to glare at her son but his pale, crestfallen expression knocked any anger she felt from her frame.

She glanced at her husband who genuinely shrugged.  

“What’s the matter honey?” she asked quietly.

“I…don’t want to talk about it mom,” Neal said, fidgeting. “Can I just go to my room?”

Mary Margaret wanted to press for more details, but David stepped forward.

“Sure son, go ahead.”

“Wait.” Mary Margaret intervened, ignoring her husband’s wayward glare. She rushed over to the counter and picked up Neal’s cellphone. She paused for a moment, fighting her decision. Finally, she held out the phone to him.

“You’re to come straight after school for the rest of the week. And no more skipping classes, no matter what.”

Neal smiled, grateful for his mother’s mercy even if his heart was still heavy. He took the phone back, and kissed her cheek before making a dash to his loft bedroom.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Mary Margaret called after him. “Wash up and come straight back!”

“Yeah.” He called back as he made a call to Robyn, moving to the furthest space of his room to keep his call out of the ear-range of his all-wanting-to-know parents.

 _“Geez Neal you’re late!”_ Robyn greeted on the third ring.

“Yeah, I know. There’s been a lot of shit going on tonight.”

 _“Why are you whispering?”_ Robyn chuckled.

“Because I don’t want my parents knowing about this yet.”

 _“About what?”_ Robyn asked, tension rising in her voice. _“What happened?”_

“It’s Gideon.” Neal said, his heart sinking even further. “There’s something big going on with him…something I don’t know if I can help him with…”

_“Well what the hell, Neal? Quit with the vague riddles and spit it out!”_

“Gideon’s…I…I think he might be transgender, Robyn.”

Robyn’s line was quiet for the longest time, and Neal was almost worried that she had hung up, that he would have to deal with their friend’s new challenge on his own.

 _“I’m sorry…what?”_ Robyn asked calmly, confused.

“I can’t be sure yet…but some of the things he said…and showed me…I think he might be…or she…I don’t even know.” He groaned, collapsing on his bed.

_“So…the makeup this morning wasn’t a totally awesome joke?”_

“Nope.”

 _“Oh…okay.”_ Robyn said. _“Well I gotta go…homework, dinner…you know.”_

“Robyn please,” Neal begged, “I don’t know what to do!”

_“You think I do?! Just tell his parents! His god-aunt is a lesbian, right? The Gold’s are hardly close-minded people.”_

“It has nothing to do with that. There’s all this other stuff with it. His dad knew…but his mom didn’t…and he came out to her this summer!”

 _“Jeez.”_ groaned Robyn.

“Well what the hell are we going to do?” Neal exclaimed. “I…I don’t know how to feel about any of this.”

Robyn hummed in thought. Most of the time her don’t-give-a-damn attitude was the solution to all heir problems.

_“I guess we talk to him and figure out what he wants to do.”_

 Neal wished she had more insight, but couldn’t really argue with logic. This was something they were going to have to take one step at a time.

“Neal, time for dinner!”

“I’ve got to go.” Neal whispered.

 _“Yeah.”_ Robyn responded, the line clicking after an awkward silence.

Neal listened to the dead static for what felt like hours. He felt trapped within in the blurry, buzzing sparks, unable to do anything but exist uneventfully. He wondered if Gideon felt the same way…if Gideon even existed anymore.

_“If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again.”_

 


	7. The Breaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle begins to question her husband's truthfulness. Meanwhile, another incident at school leads Gideon to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez it’s been forever since I’ve updated this. I’ve missed it *kisses fic*
> 
> Special thanks to @RoyaltyLaine who took a liking to my fic to the point of nominating it in the TEA awards back in January ^-^. It meant the world to me!

 

The day Gideon had revealed himself to his mother had been the happiest day of his life. For years he wanted to tell her, wanted to shop for clothes and talk about girl-related things with her.

Yet his father wouldn’t allow it.

Up until he was thirteen he kept his activities in one of the guestrooms, which he would be shooed from when Belle was on the way home, there was a strict rule never to dress up when Belle was in the house. It had pained Gideon to limit his entire being into a single room, but he did because his papa told him to. Then the single room turned into a single box when Belle decided to turn the room into an expanded library.

“It’ll be alright.” His father had promised as he hurriedly packed away Gideon’s makeup and clothes.

Yes, he let Gideon dress up when he wanted to, let him experiment with makeup colors and shoes. He would even bring him garments and accessories from the auctions and yard sales he used to stock his shop. He never shamed him for what he did, never told him what he was doing was wrong.

But he never let him tell his mother.

For years, it had been enough, the deep-seated secret between father and son.

But Gideon didn’t want to be his son anymore.

He didn’t even want to be Belle’s.

He wanted to be their _daughter_.

Yet the next morning he hesitated as he chose out an outfit. On the right side of his bed was a pair of fitted jeans and a freshly-ironed plaid shirt. On the left were a long brown skirt and a white suit top.

His fingers itched to take the skirt, yet his eyes never looked up from the jeans.

This all felt like a bizarre dream. He was ready to come out for the world to see, but he was hesitating to put on a damn skirt.  So long he wanted to come out, to be free of the confinements of his male-hood, and yesterday he had given himself the chance.

It was hardly the mass rejection he had received from his peers that was causing his hesitation. He had been expecting that, and would have been more shocked had they accepted him immediately. Even his parents’ reactions of finding him in the principal’s office in full-makeup had stung less than he thought it would.

Perhaps it was the way Neal had watched him all day, like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. He hadn’t told his friend that he knew of his voyeurism when he visited him yesterday. The entire school had been watching him, and Neal’s gaze had been the kindest. It was really his reaction from when Gideon had showed him his box of feminine products that had him uncertain. It wasn’t scorn or even disgust. Just uncertainty and confusion, and a strange twinge of realization that had just then settled in.

 Had Neal really never noticed that he was different? Had he not seen the way he looked at other women—with that sense of jealousy and _need_? At the lingerie shops or the women’s section of every store they’ve ventured into?

Had he ever noticed the side-ways glances he sent _his_ way?

Gideon shook his head, not quite ready to delve into the attraction aspect of his transformation. He needed to deal with the physical and mental aspects first.

So skirt or jeans? Boy or girl? Happiness or numbness?

His finger grazed over the skirt, an old piece his father had bought at an estate sale and then worked on to match Gideon’s size. His father was always doing that; pushing his identity into a small space but appeasing him with little things. Clothing, makeup, jewelry. Things that would make him happy for a short time.

Gideon clutched the skirt, the fabric smooth and soft in his hand.

_“There are people out there who will **destroy** you for being different! They’ll go after you, and they’ll go after your mother! You’ve put both you and her in danger!”_

He released the skirt as it had burst into flame. His father’s word’s clung to the lining of his brain, spreading farther and deeper even months later. Gideon could handle the world hating him; he recognized a long time ago that disgust from society was part of the deal.

But towards his mother…sweet, beautiful, understanding Belle Gold who looked at him like he was her entire world, could he risk her safety? Could he decide between being who he was—and between his family’s health and happiness?

He looked down at the clothes again and his decision was finalized.

-,-,-,-

“Gideon, come on honey you’re going to be late!” Belle called upstairs as she slid back to the kitchen, her pantyhose feet nearly causing her to slip as she moved across the hardwood floor.

At the stove her husband was flipping fried eggs and placing them on toast; a quick and easy breakfast for a hectic morning.

After yesterday, the entire family needed more rest. So much so that the Gold’s had slept through their respective alarms. Luckily Belle didn’t have to open the library until 9, and likewise with Reid’s shop. Still, they had been up long after their usual bedtimes deciding on a course of action, on a plan to help their son, and they wanted to discuss their idea with him.

They were both quiet as they waited for him to descend down the stairs, unsure of _who_ exactly would be meeting them for breakfast.

Belle was uncertain of all of this. Her son liked to dress up as a woman, that much was clear when he revealed himself to them earlier that summer. Yet there was something else to all this, something was taking root in their son. It wasn’t just a fetish or a curiosity like Belle had thought it was; it was turning into a lifestyle, a need for survival.

Belle glanced at her husband who was slicing an orange to go with their breakfast. Something was different about him too. She had felt it when she had held him in her arms last night. She felt it in the tenseness of his shoulders, and saw it in the way his eyes kept looking past hers. He knew something that he wasn’t letting her in on, and it both scared and infuriated her.

When she married Reid Gold, she knew he had a past with bits of filth thrown around. He told her about most of it, and a lot of it didn’t make her stomach hurt, but it was in his past, and she was more concerned with their present and future.

Their son was part of their present and future, and thus secrets were off-limits.

She was going to find out what he knew, even if she had to beg it out of their boy.

A round of footsteps echoed through the living room, and the moment Belle Gold had both anticipated and dreaded had arrived.

When Gideon entered the kitchen he found both his parents staring at him, their expressions mixed with relief and confusion.

Gideon was clothed in the blue jeans and plaid shirt. Gender-appropriate and constricting.

“Morning, mum.” Gideon greeted, moving stiffly past her to sit at the table, avoiding his father’s eyes.

Belle stared at her son, so clean-shaven and masculine, an unusual site after seeing him in bits of femininity that had taken over his features in the past few months.

“Morning…” Belle returned, her eyes lifting to search for her husband’s. They didn’t meet her’s, but instead stayed focused on their son’s lowered head as he chewed on his toast. It felt odd, being so out of sync with him. This whole thing with Gideon had thrown them off.

She had to clear her throat to gain his attention, and blinked back tears when she nodded and they set their discussion from the night before into motion.

“Gideon, sweetheart,” Belle began, earning just a flash of his light brown eyes before they lowered to his plate again. “Your father and I were talking, and we were curious if you might be interested in…talking to someone.”

Gideon paused, a twinge of fear and uncertainty running down his spine.

“Miss Mills gave us the information of a therapist she knew.” Gold provided. “We think talking to him might help you come to terms with all of this.”

Gideon’s jaw locked. “I have come to terms with this, father.” He growled. “I know who I am.”

“Really?” Gold fought, “Then why are you dressed like that.”

Gideon’s face turned a dark purple, his nails digging into the soft wood of the kitchen table.

“Because of you, you bastard!” he screamed, jumping up and grabbing his backpack before he ran out the front door.

“Gideon!” Belle screamed after him, her desperation spiraling.

“Let him be, Belle.” Her husband soothed. “We can talk more about it when he gets home.”

Belle nodded, sinking into her husband’s loving embrace. However, she didn’t let herself become too relaxed. She still had questions for him, still had gaps of information that needed to be filled.

“Reid,” Belle began softly, turning in his arms to hesitatingly meet his eyes. “Did you and Gideon talk about any of this before?”

She watched as his pupil’s dilated and his lip twitch, his thumbs rolling in small, tight circles on her shoulders.

“Before when, dear? This morning?”

“Before he told us about his change.” Belle breathed, watching him carefully. For his credit he kept his expression passive, but the grip on her shoulders shook, his fingers fidgeting.

“I’ve known about this as long as you have.” He answered, his tone solid, unwavering.

Belle stared at him for a long moment, her heart dropping.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to work on a few things before I head out.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“No, go ahead.” Belle said, keeping her tone chirpy and calm. “I’ll see you tonight.”

A moment of silence followed before he responded, and Belle didn’t move until she heard the front door open and his footsteps retreat outside of it.

Tears leaked down her cheeks as she took a shaky seat at the table, willing herself to remain calm.

For the first time during the entire duration of their marriage, Belle did not trust her husband. He knew something about their child, and it hurt her down to her core that he was keeping it from her.

Her baby was hurting, and if Belle found out her husband was part of the reason for it, there was going to be hell to pay.

-,-,-,-,-,-

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Robyn barked as she and Neal waited outside the school. “He’s going to show up, just chill.”

“He said he’d try.” Neal breathed, stretching to see the furthermost point of the street in hopes of seeing Mr. Gold’s Cadillac. “Or…she…oh my god this makes no fucking sense!”

Robyn snorted, rolling her chair back and forth. She couldn’t wait for the day when the doctor would give her the okay to use crutches, though she had been practicing walking on her own each night without her mother’s knowledge.

“Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense.” She shrugged. “Why should it? If this is who Gideon is then let’s just roll with it.”

“Sure, but what if things change too much? What if…Gideon just disappears and all that’s left is this stranger he’s turning into.”

“Okay, a quick Wikipedia search told me that if Gideon is transgender, then he’s always been that way. So nothing’s different. Gideon’s still Gideon, or whatever they decide to call themselves.”

“They?” Neal inquired.

“The site said we should refer Gideon as that until he tells us otherwise.” Robyn said. “Don’t understand it, but I’m going to give this my best.”

Neal nodded, wishing he could feel as confident about Gideon’s situation as she did.

“Oh, there he…they are!” Robyn exclaimed, rolling closer to the sidewalk. Neal followed suit, his heart pounding and nearly seizing when he saw Gideon in much more gender-appropriate clothing than he was expecting.

“Hey.” She greeted.

Neal eyed Gideon’s pale face carefully for any signs of makeup. There was none, and Neal couldn’t help but see how pale he looked without the additional color.

Gideon noticed Neal’s roaming eyes and managed a small smile.

Robyn looked between her friends, wondering what each of them were thinking, and more importantly wondering why Gideon was dressed the way he was. Did his parents make him come to school this way?

“Do you want to talk about it?” she said instead, the question opening a slew of possibilities.

Gideon turned to her, gratitude reflecting in his large brown eyes. He looked to Neal, hoping for the same acceptance, but instead found him staring at him blankly, like he was lost in thoughts of his own. Strangely, it took the courage right out of him.

“A-actually,” Gideon spoke after clearing his throat. “I rather talk about last night’s homework. I didn’t do it.”

Robyn snorted, relieved but also disappointed. “We got ten minutes, come on.”

Gideon began to follow her but paused when he saw that Neal wasn’t coming with them.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Gideon turned to him, taking in a nervous breath.

“Neal, I…”

“Just go.” Neal said firmly, turning from him to pace the school yard.

Gideon stared at the back of Neal’s head, his chest constricting with emotion. Neal was trying to avoid him, and that hurt more than anything his parents could say.

Neal waited until he heard the doors close before he released a snarl, kicking at the dirt and grass keeping it intact. Why had he done that? Why didn’t he try to speak to Gideon, make everything okay?

He took a moment to gather himself and come up with a course of action. Gideon needed support right now, his support, even if he had no idea what to do.

He headed into the school house, pausing when he saw the small crowd gathered around the lockers. A closer inspection revealed the worst-case scenario: Gideon was being pinned to a locker by one of Storybrooke High’s infamous jocks.

“Let him go dickhead!” Robyn yelled at him as she tried to wrestle her wheelchair out of a participating jock’s grip.

“What you going to do, Mills? Roll over my big toe?” he scoffed.

“No, I’m going to break my other leg kicking your ass!”

“Leave her out of this.” Gideon warned lowly.

“What you going to do if I don’t, fag?” the jock spat in his face. “Huh?”

“Robinson!” Neal yelled as he broke through the group of onlookers. He and the jocks were on the football team together, but that was as far as their relationship went. “Let him go, now!”

“Oh it’s him today?” Robinson scoffed, his hand sliding from Gideon’s shoulder to squish his cheeks, making his lips pucker.

Neal reached out and slapped his hand off of Gideon. “Get away from him or so help me…”

“You’ll what?” Robinson sneered. “You gonna defend your girlfriend’s honor?”

Neal’s fingers curled together, and before logic and reason could kick in, he slammed his fist into the football player’s face, sending him into the crowd of onlookers.

“Shit.” Robyn gasped, jerking when she felt the jock holding her back release her wheelchair to go after Neal. With a quick twist, she turned her chair at just an angle to send him flying into the ground.

Before Neal could ask the conditions of his friends, Robinson and the other jock were back on their feet and heading Neal and Gideon’s way.

“Son of a bitch!” Neal managed to exclaim before Robinson ran into his stomach and pushed him into the lockers.

“No!” Gideon screamed, jumping onto Robinson’s back. He tried to constrict the jock’s throat, but the jock had just enough room to elbow him in the eye and fling him off.

Neal pushed himself back and found just enough space to kick Robinson just above his groin, picking himself up before he could recover.

“I don’t want to fight you!” Neal begged as he recovered.

“Then why the hell are you defending this fag!” he boomed, sending a dark glare Gideon’s way. The other jock had him pressed into the floor, his face bloody from Robinson’s impact. “He’s always been a freak! How could you not see that!”

Neal leapt for him with a snarl, grabbing him by the collar to drag him to the ground. He managed a punch to his jaw before Robinson flipped him onto his back.

Meanwhile, Gideon was trying desperately to get to Neal. Blood was pooling into his mouth and his eye was swelling shut, hindering his ability to get out from under the other jock’s shoe. He searched around for Robyn, hoping she was out of harms way.

_“There are people out there who will **destroy** you for being different!”_

“Get off me!” Gideon screamed.

“Fuck off, fag.” The other jock sneered at him. “You’re right where you belong.”

Before Gideon could retort, the fire alarm began to shrill, causing the onlookers to scurry before they were discovered in the chaos.

Robinson pause mid-punch to look up, glaring at the source of the alarm.

“You better run asshole!” Robyn yelled at him, flipping him off.

The brief distraction allowed Neal just enough reprieve to push Robinson off and crawl back, blood leaking in rivets down his face.

“Let’s go!” Robinson yelled to the other jock, who nodded and slammed his foot into Gideon’s back, leaving the slighter boy wheezing in pain.

“The hell is going on!” Principal Regina Mills screamed as she rounded the hall to turn off the fire alarm. With her ears still ringing, she addressed the site before her with a gaped mouth.

Her niece had rolled to the side of a bloody Neal Nolan and helping him stand. Not to far away from them was Gideon Gold, beaten and bloody, and clothed in gender-appropriate clothes that should have kept him safe.

-,-,-,-,-,-,-

Gold texted Belle as soon as he got the call from Regina. They met up at his shop and raced to the school.

“Sweetheart, slow down!” Gold begged as Belle swerved hazardously into the parking lot, narrowly hitting the sickeningly green car parked in the spot next to them.

“Watch it!” the driver of car yelled, jumping out and pausing when she saw the Golds.

“Oh no.” Gold groaned. “Zelena.”

“Well well well,” Zelena scoffed. “You two. Why is it every time I get a call from this school you show up right behind me.”

“Because usually our children are in kahootz.” Belle answered, stepping out of the car. “What did Regina tell you?”

“Just that there was an incident with my daughter.” She snipped. “No doubt your brood’s fault.”

“Watch it.” Gold growled as he locked up the car.

“Or what you’ll evict me?”

“Enough!” Belle exclaimed, grabbing her husband’s arm and jogging into the school (in heels no less). On any other morning she could deal with Zelena Mills spitefulness, but right now something was happening with her son and nothing else mattered.

The three adults made their way through the halls, pausing at the lockers. There were streaks of blood on the otherwise polished school floor.

“Oh gods no…” Belle muttered, wobbling on her feet. Gold held her up and pulled her the rest of the way, blinking back tears and holding his breath so that he wouldn’t start screaming.

Blessedly, they made it to the principal’s office, Zelena brushing past them to locate her daughter by the office door.

Gold’s scream came out as a weak cry of terror when he saw Gideon’s split lip and black eye.

“Oh my god’s.” Belle sobbed as she ran to him, her fingers hovering over his bruises, afraid to actually touch him.

Gideon looked away from her, knowing he’d burst if he saw the tears in her eyes.

“Who did this?” Gold snarled when Regina stepped out of her office. “I want them expelled.”

“We’re taking care of them.” Regina sighed, turning a side-ways glance to her sister and niece.

“For once I agree with him.” Zelena remarked as she obsessively looked over her daughter for injuries.

“Mom, please.” Robyn complained, pushing her mother’s hands away. “They didn’t touch me, just held me back when they attacked Gideon.”

“Attacked.” Belle gasped. “Why did they do that he’s not…” Belle stopped, feeling her son’s eyes on her then.

Muttering just outside redirected the attention from Gideon, giving him a moment to wipe a stray tear from his eye just as Neal entered the room.

“Shit dude.” Robyn gaped.

Neal’s face was swollen and purple, bandages covering his lip and eyebrows. It was amazing he was still conscious.

He quietly made his way across the room, his posture obscure and his jaw set in a vengeful line. He took a stiff seat between Robyn and Gideon, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“You’re mom’s going to freak.” Robyn whispered to break the tension, earning no response.

“If there’s nothing else, then I’ll take my daughter home for the day.” Zelena miffed.

“No.” Robyn stated firmly, reaching down to lock the wheels of her chair. “I’m not leaving until there’s a guarantee that Gideon and Neal not going to get in trouble.”

“Why on earth would…” Zelena paused when the Nolan’s rounded the corner, entering the office with gasps.

“Sorry we’re late.” Mary Margaret apologized. “We…oh my god Neal!”

Neal winced when his mother pushed past the Golds and the principal to get to him, her hand going under his chin

“Ow, mom…” Neal cried when she pressed on a bruise on his jaw.

Mary Margaret’s eyes turned to Gideon, who pressed against the wall from the physical force of her glare.

“What _did you_ do?” She hissed, the malice in her voice creating a cold, quiet silence in the room.

Belle pulled away from her husband’s protective hold and walked stiffly to Mary Margaret’s side, using her body to persuade her to step away from the boys.

“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Nolan.” Robyn insisted, her voice quieter now that a fight could be underway. “It was Kyle Robinson and Stewart Mattews. They attacked him, Neal and I were just trying to help him.”

“An attack?” David’s voice rang out. “Regina, why wasn’t I called?”

“There were no weapons involved, thus by school policy the fight didn’t warrant police interference.” Regina explained.

“Didn’t warrant it? Look at my son’s face!” Mary Margaret exclaimed. “What were they fighting about that was so insignificant that you didn’t call the police?”

The room went quiet once more, the secret between the Gold’s that had been fully revealed to only three of the eight additional people in the room.

“Me.” Gideon spoke out, breaking the silence, and subsequently creating another chapter to his tragic story. “This whole thing was about me.”

Neal took in an unsteady breath, his legs itching to jump up and run away. From the corner of his eyes he saw Gideon stand, and unlike Robyn who scooted to the edge of her seat, he didn’t move at all.

“I am transgender.” Gideon stated simply, keeping his eyes forward and off of the gaping parents around him. “I’ve been like this my entire life and due to…” he glanced quickly at his father, “circumstances, I’ve kept it secret until now.”

“Alright, what the hell is this?” Zelena barked, looking around. “Is this a joke?”

Belle moved to Gideon’s side and looked into his soft, brown eyes, so full of hope and fear. She wondered if as he changed into the woman he stated he was, if they would still be there. Would Gideon exist at all?

Maybe he never had. Maybe the son she had created and raised and loved more than her entire being just never existed.

And she had never noticed.

But she was noticing now.

“No…” Belle smiled, grazing Gideon’s cheek. “She’s not joking.”

For the Nolan’s, the pieces of the puzzle their son refused to offer them had been laid before them. They looked to their bruised son. He was still looking down, his hands rubbing together in slow circles.

 _Something’s wrong with Gideon_.

“Alright.” Zelena exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “This obviously doesn’t concern me or my daughter, so we’re going home.”

“No, this **does** concern me, mom.” Robyn fought.

“No it doesn’t!” Zelena shouted, causing her daughter and onlookers in the room to jump. Without another word, she reached down to lift the breaks of Robyn’s wheelchair and began wheeling her away.

“For God’s sake, mom!” Robyn argued. “Gideon, I’ll call you later!”

“No you won’t!” Zelena’s voice echoed as she rolled Robyn further away.

“Oh God.” Regina groaned. “Look, you’re all free to go. Neal and Gideon won’t be punished. I’ll email you all later.”

The parents watched the principal run after her sister and niece, leaving them all in a space of confusion and uncertainty.

“We…we should go.” Mary Margarete said, more to her husband than to the Golds. “Come on Neal.”

After a moment, Neal stood, and Gideon reached out for him but he dodged his hand, pushing past his parents. His mother followed with a half-hearted look to the Golds.

“We’ll…if you need anything…or to press charges…” David said, understandably unsure what to say after such a reveal.

“Thank you, David.” Belle smiled. “We’ll keep in touch.”

David nodded, sparing a look at each of the Golds. His friend Belle, who had always put a roof over his son’s head when he and Mary Margaret had to work late. His sometimes friend Gold, who’s expression was unreadable. And then Gideon, who was going through something David could never understand. His own son seemed just as unsure of what to do. This was going to be a journey for all of them.

Belle and Gold escorted Gideon from the school, heads held high but eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Mom, Dad.” Gideon said quietly as they drove home.

“Yes dear?” Belle responded cheerily, blinking back tears.

“I’ve thought about what you both said this morning, and I’ve decided that I would like to go to therapy.”

“That’s wonderful honey.” Belle agreed. “Well call him in the morning and go from there.”

Mr. Gold looked into the rearview mirror to meet Gideon’s determined gaze. Everything, from their relationship to the way the town would view Gideon, was about to change. In truth he had wanted this —he truly had—but he had selfishly wanted it to come later rather than sooner. He had wanted to hold on to the bits of his son that hadn’t slipped away yet, to keep them safe from the rest of the cruel world.

For a moment Gold couldn’t breath or think, the idea of anything happening to Gideon sucking the essence of his soul clean out. He could no longer protect his son—or really his daughter now—from the close-minded cruelty of some of Storybrooke’s residents.

Gideon was out now, and he was more danger than he could begin to realize.  

 


End file.
